


Your Heart Is Full of Unwashed Socks

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, snape/lupin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-14
Updated: 2006-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus wants his friends and loved ones to come together for a special meal on Christmas Day in the spirit of peace on earth and good will to men. Severus knows better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Heart Is Full of Unwashed Socks

When it came to Christmas, Severus thought Ebeneezer Scrooge had the right of it: "If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through his heart". Unfortunately, Remus loved the holiday, and it seemed he loved it even more this year, when he had a cozy home of his own to decorate from floor to rafter and money enough to buy presents himself rather than having his name included on the tag by generous and sympathetic friends.

On an intellectual level, Severus understood this and even had a small, one might say "Grinchian", portion of sympathy, but he was still damned sick and tired of coming home to the cottage they had bought together on the farthest outskirts of a quiet Muggle village every day to find yet more holly and ivy strewn on every available surface and yet another gaily wrapped package under the tree. He might have found the whole process more tolerable if Remus hadn't adopted the "if it doesn't move, decorate it" approach to seasonal decor, and he was afraid to stand still for very long lest he find a garland wrapped around his shoulders or a bow affixed to his nose.

"I may vomit," he said when he arrived home and spied the kissing ball suspended in the doorway leading to the parlor. From the unkempt sprigs of ivy jutting out and the lopsidedness of the red velveteen bow, Severus deduced Remus had fashioned it himself, but it looked passable, especially since Remus had made sure some of the holly boughs still had bright red berries attached for a little color.

"Come now, Severus." Remus smiled as he crossed the room to greet Severus, winding his arms around Severus' waist and craning up for a kiss. "It's only once a year."

"Thank God, because if I had to endure this year-round, I would be having serious thoughts about the longevity of our relationship." He eyed Remus dubiously. "You aren't this enthusiastic about any other holiday, I hope."

"Well, I do get a little worked up about May Day."

The twinkle in Remus' eyes let Severus know he was teasing, and Severus gave a quiet "hmph" as he tugged Remus closer, sliding his clasped hands down to rest at the small of Remus' back. "Just tell me you're finished decorating and you haven't made any plans I'm not going to like, such as signing me up to go caroling or dragging me off on a sleigh ride."

Remus' expression shifted from mischievous to guilty, and Severus glared down at him.

"What did you do?" Severus demanded, visions of miserable trudging through bitter cold in the name of having a festive holiday season dancing in his head.

"I've invited some people over for Christmas dinner," Remus admitted. "Just a few people," he added hastily. "They didn't have anywhere else to go, so I thought we could have a nice dinner here."

"Whom did you invite?" Severus asked, using his coldest, most forbidding tone, the one that implied to any student who heard it that a frighteningly large number of points were about to be deducted from his or her House, and apparently, it worked on werewolves as well, because he could see Remus' figurative tail tucked between his legs.

"Well, you know Molly and Arthur have arranged a trip to Egypt to visit Bill and Fleur," Remus began, stroking Severus' back as if trying to soothe him. "Charlie is staying in Romania, and the twins are spending the holidays with their respective girlfriends' families, and Percy... Well."

This was accompanied by the dark look that crossed the faces of most people in their circle of acquaintance when Percy was mentioned. Severus remained silent as he usually did, because in spite of what most people thought, he _did_ possess a modicum of tact. In this situation, however, it was less tact and more strategy. He didn't want to give away his moral high ground by admitting that he thought Percy was the most tolerable of the entire Weasley lot, and he had cheered (internally, of course) when the news broke that Percy was Dumbledore's plant in the Ministry all along, followed quickly by the news that Percy had decided being estranged from his family wasn't so bad and had buggered off to Tahiti, where no doubt he was sipping fruity drinks with paper umbrellas in them while lounging on the beach and watching oiled, sweaty, bronze-skinned men in skimpy bathing suits saunter by.

Severus envied him.

"Out with it." Severus could tell where this was leading, and he was ready to get the blow over with. "Who is coming to our house on the very first Christmas we will spend together as a couple?" he asked, twisting the knife, and from the chagrined look on Remus' face, it worked.

"Er. I invited Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione." He paused. "And Tonks."

Severus boggled at him, too shocked to speak for a good thirty seconds. "Good God, you did _not_ invite Tonks."

"Of course, I did. We have a connection -- a history -- and we're still friends," Remus explained patiently, still stroking Severus' back. "This is her first Christmas without her parents, and I didn't think it would be good for her to be alone."

"I don't care if she's alone on Christmas! She campaigned for me to receive the death penalty!"

"Now, Severus. Everyone was a little overwrought during your trial."

"This was last week." Grimacing, Severus pulled away from Remus' embrace and stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I realize our collective experience with relationships would scarcely fill a thimble, but I am reasonably certain making plans for a Christmas party is something one consults one's partner about, especially when it comes to the guest list."

"You're right." Remus inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression apologetic. "I'm not accustomed to thinking as a couple yet, and when I found out they were all going to be alone, I thought it might be fun to host an orphan's Christmas. I've never been able to plan a holiday gathering before, and I got carried away."

Severus sighed, conveying with a simple noise how put-upon he was and how much he suffered in putting up with Remus' quirks. It was not a loud sigh, however, since he was well aware of how much Remus suffered in putting up with _his_ quirks. "Fine," he said in a tone that made it clear he expected generous and frequent amounts of sex to help him get over the devastation. "Have your Christmas party. Just remember: they are _your_ friends, not mine, and I will not buy presents or play Gracious Host for them. I cannot even imagine how you got them to say yes in the first place, given they are not any more fond of me than I am of them."

"No one likes to be alone on Christmas," Remus said simply, and Severus fell silent, knowing the truth of that all too well.

It was easier to accept the idea of spending his first Christmas with Remus surrounded with a passel of Gryffindors when the event was still far enough in the future that it didn't seem quite real yet. But as days passed and December the 25th loomed closer, Severus found himself growing more and more grumpy about the idea. It didn't help that Remus kept that damned Victrola of his playing Christmas music until Severus thought one more mention of figgy pudding might drive him to the mad house.

The irony was Severus had thought he might actually enjoy Christmas for once. He had never liked Christmas at Hogwarts; the students all turned into rowdy hellions with nothing but going home and presents on their minds, and those who stayed behind reminded him far too much of himself for comfort. Christmas had never done anything for him except reinforce the fact that he had no family, no friends, and no cause to find joy in the season. However, this year he had Remus, and he had thought that would make all the difference in the world. But now he was back to dreading the day again because instead of a peaceful celebration at home, he would be surrounded by people who didn't like him, and he would feel like an outsider. Again. And in his own home, damn it! Yet if he voiced any of his concerns, it would spoil everything for Remus, whose level of Christmas cheer had gone through the roof now that he had a party to plan. _He_ was happy because one of his life-long dreams was coming true at last, and Severus couldn't bring himself to destroy that happiness.

It was tempting to suggest that perhaps he ought to take a mini-break from the 24th through the 26th and go somewhere warm and remote where no one celebrated Christmas, but he didn't really want to be away from Remus on Christmas, nor did he want to share Remus on that particular day. Besides, he could imagine the look Remus would give him if he did suggest spending it apart. Instead, Severus withdrew, spending more time at work and in his lab, leaving Remus to make his preparations in peace.

_Maybe next year_, he thought as he stood in front of the tree Remus had decorated with rich jewel colored ornaments in various shapes and sizes, fairy lights, and gingerbread men, among other things. None of the ornaments were expensive; Severus knew Remus had found the glass balls and the red velvet tree skirt trimmed in white fake fur at a Muggle second-hand shop in October. Many had been made by Remus, like the gingerbread men and popcorn chains, and Remus had gathered all the greenery from the forest beyond the outskirts of the village. But it had all come together nicely, and the hodge-podge suited their home. Severus just wished they would be able to enjoy it in peace.

"Tomorrow is the big day." Remus came up behind him and wound both arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. "I know you aren't looking forward to it," he continued, leaning his cheek on Severus' shoulder. "I appreciate that you're willing to try, though."

Severus made a noncommittal noise; the last thing he wanted to do was say something that might spark a quarrel when their guests would be scrutinizing every nuance of their interaction to make certain the greasy git was treating their beloved Remus well enough to suit them.

Remus fell silent for a while, seeming content to stand there and hold Severus, and Severus let him, although he didn't feel generous enough to lean back against him, much less turn around and return the embrace. "It isn't too late to cancel everything," Remus said at last, his tone pensive. "Yes, I'd like to have a Christmas party, but not if it's going to make you miserable."

_It will_, Severus thought morosely. He would dread the arrival of their guests all day, and once they had arrived, he would count the minutes until they finally went home and left him alone. He would be outside the conversation, outside the jokes, outside the laughter and camaraderie because everyone except Remus hated him and wouldn't want to include him, and he didn't want to be included anyway, because he hated them too, damn it.

"I've never looked forward to Christmas," he said aloud. "I don't see why this year should be any different. The damned party is tomorrow, and it _is_ too late to cancel everything." He struggled over his next words, unaccustomed to having such sentiments on his tongue. "I want you to enjoy it. You deserve it," he said in a low voice, and Remus squeezed him hard enough to make him gasp.

"Come to bed," Remus murmured, sliding his hand lower until Severus gasped again for a different reason entirely. "I want to jingle your bells and stuff your stocking."

"We've moved on to the bad Christmas jokes now, have we?" Severus relented and leaned against him, relaxing at last.

"We have." The smile was evident to hear in Remus' voice. "I'd like to make certain your Christmas isn't _utterly_ miserable, and if that means shagging you until you scream 'ho ho ho', so be it."

"I will scream no such thing," Severus replied sternly, but he let Remus lead him upstairs for a night that was neither silent nor holy and which would land Severus on Father Christmas' "naughty" list if he wasn't already there.

The next morning, Remus was up bright and early, and he brought Severus a cup of tea and some toast and jam in bed.

"What, no presents?" Severus' bottom lip jutted out when he saw the lack of gaily wrapped packages on the breakfast tray. "It's Christmas."

"I thought you didn't care about Christmas," Remus teased, perching on the side of the bed after he settled the tray in Severus' lap.

"I don't," Severus replied, picking up his cup and blowing the steaming liquid before taking a sip gingerly. "I do care about presents, however. I assume at least one amid the mountainous pile underneath that poor, beleaguered tree is for me."

"At least one, yes," Remus replied archly. "I suppose there's one for me, too?"

"At least one, yes." Severus mimicked Remus' tone and inflection. "But if I must wait, so must you."

"Unlike some people, I _can_ wait," Remus said, and he leaned over to kiss Severus' cheek before rising to his feet. "I thought it would give you something to look forward to if we save our own private celebration for after our guests leave."

"_Your_ guests," Severus grumbled, scowling into his cup. "I don't make any claim on them."

"My guests, then," Remus agreed amiably. "Anyway, it isn't as if they're staying all night. We'll have time to enjoy our presents and whatever is left of the eggnog once they've gone."

"You do plan on spiking the eggnog, I hope."

"Rather heavily."

"Good."

The festivities, such as they were, were scheduled to commence at five o'clock, and Severus dreaded his way through every minute until then. The morning was worse, since he didn't have anything to do, and Remus was busy sending off presents by owl post. But that afternoon, Remus enlisted his help with cooking, and he spent a few hours slicing, dicing, and chopping various and sundry ingredients for the feast Remus was preparing. Remus was, in fact, quite a good cook, and he knew how to prepare an excellent meal on a budget, which meant their spread would look far more expensive than it actually was. That pleased Severus, not just for financial reasons. If they were going to do this, then he wanted it to be impressive.

By 4:45 PM, he rather thought it _was_ impressive. The roast goose was a perfect golden brown, simmering in its own juices and filling the house with a tantalizing scent. The mashed potatoes were whipped into a fluffy, butter-drenched mountain, and the gravy was lumpless. The house was spotless, the decorations flawless, and the meal was hot and would remain so thanks to warming charms Remus had placed on all the platters and serving bowls; all that remained was for the guests to arrive. Under difference circumstances, Severus might have been quite proud of Remus' accomplishment; he couldn't take credit since he hadn't done much to help. This was Remus' brain child, and Remus had executed his plans and had remained organized and unflustered throughout his preparations. He hadn't even taken any restorative nips of the cooking sherry or spiked eggnog along the way, which was more forbearance than Severus would have shown were their positions reversed.

When they heard the rap of the brass knocker on the door, Remus went to let their first guests in, and Severus retreated to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine, although he listened intently, trying to hear who it was.

"Happy Christmas, Remus!"

Severus grimaced. There was no mistaking the brash voice of Weasley the younger, especially when it was quickly followed by Granger's -- no. He corrected himself, rolling his eyes as he did. Followed by _Granger-Weasley's_ shrill tone.

"I told you we'd be early, Ron!"

Severus could hear Remus' softer, deeper voice respond, and even though he couldn't make out the words, he could guess Remus was offering assurances that they weren't that early, and it wasn't any trouble. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of hiding in the kitchen for the rest of the evening, but he supposed that wasn't an option if he wanted any roast goose and sage stuffing, and he did.

Instead, he opened the wine and loaded a tray with the bottle and enough wine glasses for everyone, and he took it into the parlor -- and he nearly dropped it when he saw Hermione Granger-Weasley sprawled on their sofa, her hands splayed on her rounded belly. She had to be six months pregnant if she was a day, and Severus was torn between shock and horror that Weasley had managed to inflict his spawn on her so quickly. He had always thought she would be the type who waited until she had enjoyed a few years in her chosen profession before starting a family, but she wasn't even out of her teens, much less a career woman.

It was a testimony to his self-control that he kept his expression impassive while delivering the tray. He set it on the end table by the sofa and promptly began pouring himself a glass; he needed it if there were to be any more shocks this evening.

"Would anyone like some wine?" Remus asked, moving to take the bottle when Severus had filled his glass. "Hermione, we have pumpkin juice, or Severus could make you some hot tea, if you prefer."

"Pumpkin juice is fine," she replied, although Severus recognized the edge of sulkiness in her voice that implied it was _not_ fine, and while she wasn't going to say anything outright rude, she was going to let her displeasure be known somehow. Severus was quite familiar with that tone, having used it often himself, and he glanced at Weasley to see if it produced the same kind of fidgets in him as it did Remus.

But Weasley didn't even seem to notice, which made Hermione's expression darken and made Severus roll his eyes. _Sometimes,_ he thought, _that boy has all the emotional awareness of a rock._ He felt a momentary twinge of sympathy for Hermione, and he took a deep drink of wine to help him get over the trauma of it.

Years of ingrained paranoia made him carry his glass with him when he returned to the kitchen to fetch a glass of pumpkin juice, even in his own home. He might have been more relaxed had Weasley not been in the room, but he didn't trust Weasley not to tamper with his wine in the name of a "harmless prank", and he didn't want to take any chances. While he was in the kitchen, he heard the knocker again, but he ignored it. It was either Potter and his wife, whom Severus didn't want to see, or it was Tonks, whom Severus _really_ didn't want to see; either way, it was best if Remus handled it.

He arrived in the parlor, pumpkin juice in hand, just in time to see Tonks snake her arms around Remus and trap him beneath that damned kissing ball. She lunged at him, but he turned his head so that her kiss landed on his cheek rather than his lips, and Severus watched, seething, his fingers clenching around the glasses he held.

"Go on, Remus! You wouldn't begrudge her a real Christmas kiss, would you?" Weasley exclaimed, grinning, and Hermione shot him a scandalized look.

"Ron!"

"Your pumpkin juice." Severus stepped forward, making his presence known in the room, perversely satisfied to sense the tension and discomfort in the room ratchet up several notches.

Her mouth tightening with obvious displeasure, Tonks stepped away from Remus, who appeared relieved, and Hermione accepted the glass of pumpkin juice, shooting glances of pure annoyance at Ron, who had the grace to look chagrined. Severus took another deep swallow of wine and wondered how heavily Remus had spiked the eggnog.

Silence fell, thick and heavy, and Severus found himself wishing for one of Remus' Christmas albums to be playing; even cheerful chirping about figgy pudding would be more welcome than the oppressive quiet of a roomful of people with nothing to say to one another. When the knocker sounded again, most of them jumped, startled by the unexpected noise, and Remus practically ran to answer the door. Severus withdrew to a corner, standing rather than sitting; he told himself it was to leave room for the guests, but deep down, he knew it was because he could make a quicker and easier escape that way.

Potter sauntered in, all smiles -- until his gaze fell on Severus, at any rate -- and his wife was right there beside him. Severus didn't miss the shadow that crossed her face when she saw Hermione or how quickly she flicked her gaze away. The two of them joined Weasley and Hermione on the sofa, and Ginny reached for the wine bottle and poured herself a glass.

"I'm glad you could come," Remus said, smiling fondly at the two new arrivals. "How are you both?"

"Good," Potter replied in a too-jovial tone, and Ginny shrugged negligently.

_Trouble in paradise?_ Severus wondered. He supposed it would be too much to hope that his relationship with Remus would flourish while Potter's went down in flames.

Another silence fell, accompanied this time by much studying of the furnishings and rugs and punctuated by a few weak comments about the quality of the wine and half--hearted questions about the decorations. It was far more awkward and uncomfortable than Severus had imagined -- and he had a vivid imagination -- and he offered a flimsy excuse about checking on the goose and hurried back to the kitchen for a respite from the oppressive tension. He managed to find reasons to putter around for a good fifteen minutes before he ran out of things to do and forced himself to return to the parlor.

Laughter greeted him, and he froze in the doorway, his jaw tightening when he saw the cozy, _comfortable_ scene before him. Everyone appeared far more relaxed now, and there was easy conversation flowing. But it dried up when the occupants of the room noticed him standing there, and he swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists by his sides. It couldn't have been clearer if they had shouted it at him: _he_ was the source of their tension, and the rest of them would be able to have a marvelous time together if only he wasn't around to spoil their fun.

He was on the verge of shouting that they could have their bloody stupid Christmas party without the taint of his presence when Remus hurried over to him, hands outstretched. Clasping Severus' hands and squeezing them tightly, Remus kissed his cheek and moved to stand at Severus' side, releasing one hand but twining his fingers with the other. It was, Severus knew, a silent display of solidarity to show the others that Remus considered him welcome even if no one else did, which he appreciated, but it did little to ease the knot in his stomach.

"Everything is ready," Remus announced cheerfully. "Now that we're all here, let's eat, shall we?"

He led the way into their dining room, which was just big enough to fit everyone at the table without feeling crowded, and took his place at the head of the table where the roast goose was waiting to be carved. Severus retrieved the wine bottle and put it beside the chilled pitcher of pumpkin juice on the sideboard before taking his place at the other end of the table. As everyone else filed in, he could practically see the mental calculations going on as people tried to figure out who would be stuck sitting next to him. He ended up with Hermione on his right and Ginny on his left. Tonks, damn her, claimed the chair on Remus' right, and Severus glared daggers at her for it. Not that she noticed; she was too busy watching Remus while he carved the goose.

The meal began in silence broken only by the delicate clink of silverware and requests to pass this dish or that, and Severus sat and waited for the mashed potatoes to reach him, silently fuming. He didn't want to retreat any longer; on the contrary, his stubborn streak was rearing its head, and he grew determined to make these wretched brats speak whether they wanted to or not, and if they didn't, then _they_ would be the ones who looked churlish, not him.

"When are you due?" he asked, turning to Hermione after he had spooned a generous helping of gravy on his potatoes. He didn't really care, but he knew it was the kind of polite question people asked in situations like these, and he thought perhaps it might generate some conversation that didn't revolve around how Remus got the goose so tender.

"The middle of March." She rubbed her stomach in slow circles, falling silent for a moment, and Severus could see her jaw clenching. "I'm sure you already know it was an accident," she snapped. "Yes, I was taking a contraceptive, and no, I wasn't careless, so you can spare me the gloating!"

Severus was about to protest that he hadn't known. Who the hell did she think would have told him? However, he was spared the necessity of a response when Ron spoke up, blushing until his face matched his hair.

"Hermione! Sorry." He shot an apologetic look around the table that even included Severus. "Hormones, you know."

"Ron, stop blaming everything I say or do that you don't like on hormones!" Hermione whirled on him, scowling. "You act like I'm nothing but a huge belly and hormones anymore, and I'm sick of it! I'm still a person, I still have feelings, and I'm still not happy this happened, and you bloody well know it!"

"It isn't my fault!" Ron protested.

"It _is_!" Hermione clenched her fists on the table top, glaring at him. "Molly warned me this might happen, but I didn't believe her. I didn't think Pureblood sperm could be any different from normal sperm, and I was so sure a good, reliable contraceptive would be just fine. I should have listened to her," she said darkly.

While she was speaking, Severus noticed Ginny starting to fidget, her expression growing more and more thunderous, her face growing almost as red as her brother's. Severus watched the by-play, more fascinated than irate now; this was better than one of those soap operas Remus listened to (and Severus pretended he didn't listen to) on the wireless.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have," Ron retorted. "I don't know what you're so bloody upset about. We talked about wanting a family--"

"_Later_," Hermione interrupted. "Years later! I wanted a job. I don't want to be a stay-at-home mother. I'm not Molly!"

"No one's asked you to be!"

"No, you just got me pregnant the first chance you got. You'll probably want me barefoot next. You and your bloody potent Pureblood sperm!"

"Oh, shut up, you ungrateful cow!" Ginny shouted, apparently having reached a breaking point at last. "At least you can _get_ pregnant," she continued, unmindful of the wide eyes and slack jaws aimed at her. Except for Potter, Severus noted, who just looked uncomfortable. "What about those of us who want to and can't? You ought to be grateful instead of sitting there, whinging about it!"

Hermione stared at her, looking utterly gobsmacked, and then her bottom lip began to wobble, and her brown eyes filled with tears.

"Oi!" Ron glared at Ginny fiercely. "Don't talk to my wife like that! It isn't her fault you can't get yourself knocked up. You've been so bloody tomboyish all your life, you've probably bunged everything up!"

Ginny surged to her feet, shaking her fist. "I'll show you tomboyish!"

"See? How do we even know you're a proper girl anymore?" Ron rose to his feet as well, squaring off with Ginny across the table.

"Hey!" Potter leaped up to join the fray, scowling at his best friend. "Don't _you_ talk to _my_ wife like that! She's upset!"

"So is Hermione!"

"All right, let's all calm down." Remus stood up, trying to make himself heard, but to no avail. Potter, Weasley, and Ginny were shouting at each other, hurling invectives and demands for apologies at increasingly louder volume, and Hermione was sobbing into her napkin, making the crisp linen Remus had painstakingly ironed wilt into shapelessness.

Severus rubbed his temples. He had asked a simple, innocent question in an attempt to feign polite interest like normal people did, and look where it got him: in the middle of a domestic war zone. Between the shouting and the wailing, he was feeling a headache worse than anything he'd ever got during his years of teaching at Hogwarts coming on, and the roast goose on his plate was getting cold to boot. He wanted it to stop, and he wanted it to stop _now_. He couldn't hurl hexes at any of them, which left him with limited options. Thus he felt justified in what he was about to do.

He rose to his feet, scooped up a handful of perfectly whipped mashed potatoes topped with perfectly lumpless gravy, and hurled it into Potter's face.

There was about ten seconds of total silence while everyone else at the table -- including Potter -- gaped at him, fish-mouthed. Then the shock wore off, and while Severus had always thought the phrase "and then all Hell broke loose" a ridiculous exaggeration, he decided later that it aptly described what happened next. There was an explosion of outraged cries, and Severus found himself on the receiving end of a barrage of peas, mashed potatoes, and sage stuffing as everyone except Remus and Tonks stopped squabbling with each other and turned on him, united against a common enemy. With a snarl, Severus snatched up his roll and flung it, not caring whom he hit; he just wanted to give as good as he was getting, although the gravy dripping into his eyes was hindering his aim.

"Stop!"

He was vaguely aware of Remus' exclamation, but no one was heeding it. After satisfying themselves that Severus had been thoroughly coated, they turned on each other; even Hermione stopped her caterwauling long enough to throw brussels sprouts with unsettling accuracy at Ginny.

"Call me an ungrateful cow, will you?" she shouted, the light of battle in her eyes, and Ginny squawked and ducked, using the table for cover as she groped for a handful of cranberry sauce. She crowed with victory when it splattered on Hermione's bulging belly, only to cry out with surprise a moment later when she was hit by a well-aimed volley of glazed carrots from her brother.

"Tomboy!" Ron glared at her, brandishing another handful of carrots menacingly.

"Henpecked doormat!" Ginny retorted, earning another brussels sprout from Hermione, this one catching her right between the eyes.

Severus remained watchful but wary; it seemed they had forgotten him, but he held a drumstick at the ready just in case. But _he_ had forgotten about Tonks, who had been sitting and watching in stunned silence, but it seemed she couldn't bear to be left out of the action any longer. Lunging to her feet, she grabbed as many rolls as she could, her nostrils flaring and her hair turning a fiery scarlet as she glared down the length of the table at Severus.

"How could he?" she shrieked, pelting Severus with a barrage of buttery rolls. "How could he choose you over me? You're _ugly_ and _hateful_ and _evil_!" Each insult was punctuated with another lobbed roll, the last bouncing off Severus' nose as she seemed to unleash all her pent--up anger at long last.

"Because I don't have breasts, you stupid girl! How naive and unobservant are you that you wasted years of your life throwing yourself at a gay man?" Severus brandished his drumstick at her, prepared to do battle if necessary. Remus had chosen _him_, damn it, whether she -- or anyone else, for that matter -- liked it or not!

"ENOUGH!" Remus slammed his fist on the table hard enough to jostle the plates and cutlery, and he swept a stern gaze around the table.

Amazingly, the shouting and throwing dwindled, and there was an inordinate amount of foot-shuffling and avoidance of eye contact in the wake of Remus' disapproval. Even Severus dropped his drumstick and had to make an effort not to look sheepish.

"I am disappointed in all of you," Remus said, his voice quiet but stern. Severus felt as if he was about five years old thanks to that voice, and a glance around showed he wasn't the only one; everyone else appeared cowed as well, all wide eyes and hunched shoulders. "I thought we were all adults here, capable of putting our differences aside for one day and enjoying a peaceful meal together, but it seems I overestimated you. Look at what you've done."

He made a sweeping gesture, encompassing their food-stained clothes, the besmirched walls, and the decimated feast. The room was an utter mess, Remus' carefully prepared food and decorations ruined.

"And you." Remus turned his gaze on Severus and shook his head. "You are my partner, a former teacher and Head of House, and twice the age of our guests. You should know better, and yet you are the one who started this childish behavior."

Remus was right, of course. Severus was nearly forty years old, an authority figure, and a veteran of two wars. He ought to be above such petty displays.

_But_, he thought as he scooped up a fresh handful of potatoes and gravy, _I'm not._

The potatoes caught Remus full in the face with a satisfying SPLAT!

It seemed as if all the air had gone out of the room, and Severus could practically see everyone else at the table holding their breath and preparing to dive under the table for cover. Severus wondered if _he_ ought to take cover as Remus reached up, wiped his eyes and shook his hands, flinging bits of potato everywhere. He had never done anything like that before, and he realized far too late that he didn't know whether this meant he would be spending a few nights on the sofa. Or worse.

Remus began to shake, and he bent double, and for one horrifying instant, Severus thought he had made Remus cry, but then Remus collapsed in his chair -- and laughed. It was a deep, full-throated belly laugh that made reluctant smiles tug at the lips of those around him, and the smiles widened until everyone except Severus was laughing too, but even he could see the absurdity of the situation, which was likely what had set Remus off.

"Oh, dear." Still chuckling, Remus swiped the tears of laughter from his eyes with a clean patch of his sleeve. "Let's salvage what we can of the food and finish our meal. Then I'll add more rum to the eggnog, and we can all get nice and tipsy." He gave Hermione a sympathetic look. "Well, not you, of course. But if you're craving anything in particular, I'll get it for you so you won't be left out completely."

"Sweets," she replied decisively. "I've been craving sweets. Chocolate, if you have it."

"Of course I do," Remus replied, smiling. "It helps."

Hours later, the devastation in the dining room had been cleaned up, the presents had been opened, and their guests were gone, leaving the two of them alone to enjoy what remained of Christmas Day together. Although charms had helped banish the food in their hair and on their clothes, they had wanted a hot shower to feel really clean again, and now they were both clean and comfortable. There was still a little eggnog left, and Remus sipped a cup while he snuggled against Severus' side on the sofa, wearing the thick, sapphire blue dressing gown Severus had given him over his flannel pajamas. Severus, who was pleasantly mellow from the two cups of eggnog he'd had earlier, had a mug of hot cider instead and had his arm around Remus' shoulders, which made his world a satisfying place to be. The lights were off except for the fairy lights on the tree, which cast a soft glow in the room, and the fire crackling in the fireplace, adding its warm, golden light to make the atmosphere cozy. Remus' Victrola was quietly playing "Silent Night". Outside, it was snowing, and Severus thought if their surroundings became any more Currier and Ives, someone would want to write a Christmas carol about _them_.

"I saw you talking to Hermione and Ginny," Remus said, idly running his hand along Severus' thigh. "What was that all about? Not a quarrel, I hope."

"On the contrary." Severus took a sip of his cider, feeling quite pleased with himself. "I promised one I would provide a recipe for a more potent contraceptive potion, and I promised the other I would brew a potion that would enhance fertility for both men and women."

"And Tonks?" There was still an edge of concern in Remus' voice.

"She apologized," Severus said with a considerable amount of smug satisfaction in his voice. "Oddly enough, she said seeing me throw food at you made her realize I do make you happy, and she said she was sorry for calling me evil."

"But not for calling you ugly and hateful?" Remus glanced at him with obvious amusement.

"Apparently her contrition does not extend to dishonesty even for the sake of the season."

"You aren't ugly," Remus said firmly, leaning his head on Severus' shoulder. "Or hateful."

"I'm not handsome," Severus replied. "And I'm not hateful to you. The rest of the world sees me with far different eyes than you do."

"Then I'll keep my rose colored glasses, thanks." Remus sighed quietly. "Speaking of, I suppose I should have known better than to try to gather this particular group of people under one roof."

"I don't know what you expected," Severus said in a pragmatic tone that was devoid of any 'I told you so' overtones; he did sympathize with Remus' disappointment, after all. However, like Tonks, his sympathy didn't prevent him from being honest. "You may have wanted a Dickens Christmas with all of us as the Cratchits, but you were dealing with people far more keen on helping each other re-enact the ending of _Hamlet_."

"And I know that, but I didn't want to have a segregated celebration. I wanted everyone I like in one place instead of feeling as if I had to divide my time or take sides. I suppose I hoped for a Christmas miracle." Remus curled his fingers around his cup of eggnog and snuggled a little closer to Severus' side, his shoulders drooping.

"You got one," Severus pointed out. "No one stormed out in a huff, everyone is still speaking to everyone else, no one threw any hexes, and no one ended up in St. Mungo's. All things considered, I would consider that a miracle."

Remus lifted his head and smiled. "I suppose you're right at that." Leaning over, he pressed a lingering kiss to Severus' cheek. "Thank you."

"You aren't angry with me for starting a food fight, then?" Severus asked hesitantly. Remus didn't seem angry, but he thought it would be best to make certain.

"Not at all." Remus settled back and took a sip of eggnog. "You're forgetting who my friends were at school. Compared to the antics they got up to, a food fight is small potatoes. Besides," he added, flashing a grin at Severus, "it broke the tension, and it was nice to see you letting loose for a change."

"It was purely practical," Severus retorted, drawing himself up proudly.

"Mm-hhm."

"I couldn't have hexed any of them the way I wanted to," he insisted, scowling. "Tonks would have used it as an excuse to haul me off to spend Christmas in prison -- and you know she would have."

"Oh, of course." Remus smiled knowingly, and Severus' scowl deepened. With an affectionate chuckle, Remus hooked his fingers beneath Severus' chin and turned his head to kiss him again, a slower and more thorough kiss this time, and Severus' scowl faded as he parted his lips and savored the taste of Remus and eggnog and the faintest trace of spicy rum. "Happy Christmas, Severus," Remus murmured against his lips.

"Bah, humbug," Severus replied, but the words were spoken quietly and without rancor. Somewhere amid all the shouting and the flying glazed carrots, Severus had found some joy in the season. Or perhaps, he thought, as he put his cider aside and drew Remus into his arms for another kiss, it was a greater appreciation for the good things that had come into his life of late, Remus being the first and foremost among them. Whatever the reason, this had been a far better Christmas than Severus had expected.

Although next year, he might see if he could coax Remus into going somewhere tropical for the holidays where they could lounge on the beach, sip fruity drinks, and watch oiled, bronze-skinned men in skimpy bathing suits stroll by. Now that, he thought, would be a happy Christmas indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for demon-of-rice in Snupin Santa 2006. Contains Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny. I combined two of your prompts since they both appealed to me, and I thought they would work well together. The title comes from the lyrics of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch", which I thought suited Severus' attitude. ;) With thanks to my Mystery Beta. Merry Christmas, demon_of_rice! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> **Prompts:**1) Fic: I'd like a story involving Snape's dislike of Christmas and Lupin's love of Christmas. Make this as humorous and light as you wish.  
> 2) Fic: Snape and Lupin try unsuccessfully to throw a Christmas dinner. Bring in guests and the guests' emotional drama as well.


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